


if i had known the difference

by CostcoOfYourDreams



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: Gen, Spoilers, cowboy bebop... my one true love, for the ending of cowboy bebop, honestly it's the ramblings of someone who should be asleep but isn't, introspection i suppose, reading the day after and man can you tell that this was written during sleepy hour, some good ol' cowboy bebop philosophy, uh, vague spoilers but spoilers nonetheless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 20:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17494799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CostcoOfYourDreams/pseuds/CostcoOfYourDreams
Summary: Spike leaves the Bebop, and contemplates.





	if i had known the difference

**Author's Note:**

> I've spent an entire day crying about Cowboy Bebop, and only now that I should be asleep do I write about it. It's been a while since I've seen the show and I'm hopped up on NyQuil, so please forgive me for any inconsistencies. 
> 
> Title's from [Gotta Knock a Little Bit Harder](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0V-WGwJJj58) from the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack. 
> 
> Vague, but major spoilers for the end of Cowboy Bebop. 
> 
> Maybe one day I'll edit this.

An eye looking to the past, Spike thinks as he leaves Faye and the Bebop behind. It is, all things considered, an apt metaphor. His accident, the replacement eye, Julia-- all are indicative of a life that Spike has been trying so hard to leave behind, but he never can quite let it go. Let Julia go, that is. 

He’s been so caught up in the past that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. That’s fine though. He can make up for lost time. 

He told Faye he wasn’t looking to die-- just to prove that he’s is alive, that is all, but that’s not entirely true. What he knows now is not that he is alive, but that it doesn’t matter if he is dead, as long as he lives. A contradictory statement, sure, but Spike, well. He’s nothing if not a man who loves a good contradiction.

Faye’ll miss him for a while sure, but Jet-- well, Jet’s a man whose ability to grieve and reluctance to let go of the past could rival Spike himself. Except, and here’s the thing, Jet isn’t the same man Spike met all those years ago. Something’s changed, he’s no longer standing still. Same with Faye. They found what they were looking for, disappointing as it might’ve been, embraced it-- or not-- and moved forward with their lives.

Except, and here’s the thing, they didn’t. Jet? Oh sure, maybe he did, but there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell Faye found self-satisfaction. And maybe that isn’t the right word for it; Spike doesn’t know and he’s not gonna waste time on distinguishing what it is she’ll never have. Faye, as loathe he is to admit it, is part of the past. Spike needs to look-- not to the future, that’s something unattainable, something far, far out of his reach-- but to the present, to the things he can change. 

Spike knows a thing or two about change, mostly because he watched it pass by him for so long, resisting its tug. He’s spent so long static, unmoving, unchanging, just observing things as they passed him by with one apathetic eye. He’s fixing that now though. 

Chasing bounties was-- fun, dare he say, and nice while it lasted. Damn, he’s going to miss the Bebop. The ship of course, not the cantankerous old men, or women with attitude, or children, or dogs. 

To hell with it, he thinks to himself, and grins. 

He will miss every moment spent with the crew. Every shared meal lacking meat (really, Jet?), every bounty cashed in, every spared glance and shared laugh. It’s such a shame he couldn’t appreciate those moments as they happened. 

A wise man once dreamt he was a butterfly, and all that mattered in that moment was the joy of flying and the simple sensations of being a butterfly. He had no memory of being a man. Then, the man woke up and was a man once more. He asked himself, “Am I man dreaming of being a butterfly? Or a butterfly dreaming of being a man?” 

Spike knows the truth now. It doesn’t matter if you're dead or alive, butterfly or man. All that matters is that one grows, changes beyond what they were. Spike hasn’t. He knows this, but no longer. He’s a man, a butterfly, a corpse,  _ alive _ . 

He wishes he had learned a little sooner, but that’s life, isn’t it? You take things as life throws ‘em at you, but that can’t be true. Living life through reactions isn’t really living. You hafta move, dance to your own beat, all of that shit you might find on a divorced woman’s throw pillow. 

Spike remembers stories of cowboys from the old days, when Earth wasn’t, well, what it is. All those cowboys lived through death, whether it be their own or the lives of others around him. A life debt, a life saved, a life lost. One of the things about cowboys is that they play by their own rules. Societal, yes, but more importantly the rules of combat. A good, old-fashioned cowboy can go up against damn near anything and still come out unharmed. It all circles back to death; cowboys control their life, thus, they control their death. 

It’s a damn shame that Spike isn’t a cowboy. 

 

_ happiness is just a word to me _

_ and it might of meant a thing or two _

_ if I had known the difference. _


End file.
